


A Guide to Modern Civilian Technology for WWII Supersoldiers

by theTabularium



Series: The Guide to Care and Housing of Temporally Displaced Super Soldiers [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Captain America: The Winter Soldier Spoilers, Domestic Avengers, Driving, Fluff, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Past Abuse, Platonic Relationships, Recovery, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 08:57:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1545038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theTabularium/pseuds/theTabularium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A comprehensive guide to every day technology encountered outside of military operations, composed by N. Romanov</p>
<p>It was supposed to be a half-hour job: go get a coffee machine. Should have been a bit of fun, a nice quick trip in and out. In tactical terms it was something you can do sleeping standing up.</p>
<p>Two hours and a police chase later, the boys return with their prize in hand. Now all they have to do is figure out how to operate it. They're two super soldiers, one of which has extensive knowledge in military tech, it shouldn't be hard, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Why We Don't Let Bucky Drive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Within which Natasha is no help at all and finds everything far more amusing then it is, and Tony Stark makes a note to never let Bucky drive anything of his again.

Bucky's had it with plunger coffee and the rattle of grinding beans sounds too much like gunfire of late. Natasha, though she favours a brew that she's probably used as an antihemorrhagic, suggests they get a coffee machine.  
"But we've got a plunger, can't we buy the already ground stuff?" Steve points out.  
Natasha grins and shakes her head. "Nope. Time to upgrade, Cap. Who doesn't like shopping?" She jibes despite resenting the crowded plazas herself. 

After Steve promising to bring Bucky over for drinks, a thinly veiled attempt to get a look at his arm no doubt, Tony lends them a car from the Stark fleet. Whilst they wait for its arrival Steve dons his civilian guise of too many jackets, a cap and glasses. Bucky shrugs on a hoodie when it's handed to him and pulls a pair of gloves from his jeans pocket.  
The man hides a laughing grin at Steve's glasses when he dons them and thinks that despite the shorted circuits in his mind he'd know him anywhere by the angle of his shoulders and the way he walks, shier then someone with enough strength to lift a car should; as if he's apologising internally every time someone moves out of his way. He longs briefly for his combat goggles as he ties his hair back but Romanov's well placed bullet has retired them and he still hasn't replaced them. Natasha watches them go from the footpath with a barely withheld smirk, her fingers dancing across her phone. No doubt she's texting Clint about the 'mission'.  
They are both surprised to see the mundane looking suburban light up with a sleek HUD and greets them in a flat, nasal voice. "Welcome." 

Steve goes to get in the driver's side but Bucky slips in before he does. "You ride a bike everywhere, I'm driving."  
Steve folds and gets in the passenger side, happy to see him comfortable enough to volunteer driving.  
"Please put on seatbelts." The AI prompts.  
"Where can we find the nearest coffee machine- at a homeware store do you think?" Steve asks as he obliges the car and belts up. Before Bucky can reach under the seat for a street directory the AI pipes up.  
"Calculating. Displaying route to nearest supplier of coffee machines." The HUD lights up with directions to an end address for Bed, Bath & Beyond, complete with live traffic time and route markers overlaid.  
The two share a look. Steve never ceased to be quietly amazed by Stark.  
Bucky finds the directory and double checks the route, not entirely sure the AI has sent them the most direct way. Though he'd much rather navigate himself, Bucky decides to go with it, replaces the directory and sets off. 

It goes downhill from there.  
They drive in silence punctuated by the nasal AI directions.  
"Continue straight for one and a half miles."  
"Speed limit breach detected: 55mph. Please slow to 40mph."  
"Please slow to 40mph."  
"In one hundred and twenty feet, turn left."  
"Speed limit breach detected. Please slow to 40mph."  
"Take the next left."  
"Turn left."  
Bucky's gloved hands tighten on the wheel and a muscle in his jaw works.  
"Left?" Steve asks as they overshoot the turn.  
"It's a one way into lights, we'll be stuck there." He states in reply, voice slightly terse. He doesn't tell Steve that the narrow buildings on either side of that road have plenty of cover for anyone who might happen to be out hunting ghosts.  
"You have missed your turn. Recalculating."  
"Keep right."  
"At the intersection, bear right."  
Steve is rather bemused by its nattering. Everything seems to have gotten so chatty- phones, cars, heck even Stark's fridge. Granted the man's entire house had a name and personality, as fitting considering its creator.  
Bucky, however - there's only so much a man can take. He's a damn soldier not a lost tourist. Technology he could handle but being sassed by a car he was not going to take sitting down.

"Please slow to 40mph."

"Alright, that's it." Bucky is so annoyed he pulls off the route into a side alley, ignoring the angry chorus of horns and Steve's soft noise of shock as he cuts across the lane of oncoming traffic.  
"Deviation. Recalculating. Execute a legal U turn."

He drums the metal fingers of his left hand over the dashboard until he hears the hollow sound of plastic casing turn to muffled taps. With a swift strike from his elbow the panel pops loose.  
The AI squawks in alarm. "Please replace dashboard. Server integrity compromised. Replace dashboard."  
"Bucky, what are you doing?" Steve says, alarmed at the quiet anger on his friend's face.  
Bucky ignores them both. Not altogether indelicately Bucky dismantles the main server casing, ignoring the AI's emotionless pleas, and rips out the wiring to shut the passive system off. The HUD dies instantly.  
Steve is slightly mortified by the ease with which he rifles through the wiring, wondering how many cars he's stolen or security systems he's culled.  
Bucky continues his dissection of the AI's hardware for a minute more before sitting back.

"There. No more back seat driving." Bucky mutters, replacing the server casing and dashboard panel. 

The change is immediate.  
The man throws the car into reverse and guns it backwards out of the alley, whipping the nose around to bring them facing the right way. Steve finds himself reaching for the armrest as his friend steers the suburban across the double lines and back on route with more aggression then was probably necessary. An angry chorus of noise follows but Bucky doesn't notice or doesn't care. 

"You drive worse then Natasha!" Steve laughs weakly as Bucky weaves in and out of traffic. "Please don't hit anyone!"  
"It's not my fault," Bucky says blankly, "That everyone else is driving so slow."  
Steve swallows nervously and subtly braces himself, spreading his legs until his knees rest firmly on the sides of the footwell and his feet are planted heels-down in the soft carpet of the floor mat.

Bucky proceeds to drive the car like he's stolen it on a military base and is being pursued by armed personnel. He dives down the lanes, pushing the speed limit and darting through intersections. The suburban ducks through startled traffic as if the other vehicles were standing still, all but a blur of black with Steve's pale face invisible through the tinted window of the passenger side. Flashing beacons alight in the rearview mirrors, emphasised by the howling of a siren, and he glances nervously at his friend. 

A steely gaze flickers to the mirror and back but the Soldier neither slows nor seems to take much notice. Traffic parts behind them and the police cruiser tries in vain to catch the darting suburban.  
"Bucky, pull over!" He says but gets no reaction.  
The Soldier isn't interested in stopping, he never has been.  
A second wailing car joins the chase and a strange light flickers in his eyes. Suddenly the day just got interesting.  
"Bucky?" Steve asks warningly.  
"Hold on." The man replies. He seems to slow and Steve almost relaxes- maybe he's given up- but is thrown back in his seat as the Soldier drops a gear and the car explodes forwards.

Never has a suburban been driven with such haste or aggression. The AI, having been dismantled, isn't able to call for assistance or guidance. The police are pursuing suspects unknown in a Stark fleet vehicle, suspected hijacking, increasingly dangerous pursuit. Another has joined the dance but it only seems to urge the Soldier on.  
"Buck, just pull over we can explain to them-I'll pay the fine, I'm pretty sure we won't go to prison! Please, before they get a helicopter!" Steve stammers, fully spread-eagled in the passenger seat and wishing he'd insisted on driving. "Fury will be able to do something- _RED LIGHT, RED LIGHT, RED LIGHT!_ "  
Three red lights run and a very sharp corner later, Steve is still pleading with the Soldier to stop but he's having far too much fun. The suburban dances through traffic and darts back and forth from one lane to the oncoming and back again, daring the squad cars to follow. 

Suddenly Bucky breaks from the fierce concentration and watches something flash by, wide-eyed. "Oh, shit!"  
"Oh shit what?" Steve asks from his increasingly low position on the passenger side.  
The Soldier returns his gaze full front. "Never mind, time to finish this." 

Oh god. Steve tightens his grip on the armrest, which is starting to look worse for wear. Fleet cars were never meant as pursuit vehicles, let alone meant to stand up to the beating a nervous super soldier might give them. He's past the point of pleading, reminding himself that this is how Bucky learnt to drive: the Soldier in combat situations and pursued by hostiles. It'll take him a while to drive like nobody's chasing him, until then he's just along for the ride. 

Suddenly the squad cars seem further behind.  
Steve glances over his shoulder to see them four cars back, then looks forward and immediately wishes he hadn't.  
The Soldier rips the wheel left and the car dives across the path of an oncoming semi, mounts the curb and blasts through a chainlink fence.  
The alley is so narrow they suddenly lack wing mirrors but the move works and the squad cars, hampered by the panicked semi and narrow entrance, are stopped in their tracks. The suburban scrapes out of the alley, knocking a few garbage cans in the process, and onto a oneway street. The Soldier zig-zags a few blocks and retraces his general direction until he spies a suitable side street.

The car slows to a strangely calm stop at the curb and Bucky kills the engine. Steve watches, confused, as he exits the vehicle.  
"Bucky, where are you going?" He asks as he extracts himself from the passenger side to follow.  
"Parking. We're walking from here." Bucky replies evenly as if they hadn't spent the past ten minutes in a high speed pursuit.  
"You can't just leave it there, it's a rental, we've got to give it back!" Steve protests as he falls into step with his friend.  
"There's a tracking beacon on it, we don't have to give it back because Stark will pick it up." Bucky states as if the beacon was a great flashing one in the middle of the dash and not the fingernail sized chip he'd seen in the AI server.  
"Oh," Steve's argument falls short. "You know where we're going? I'd never heard of the place."  
"Yeah, I do." Bucky says, gaze drifting inwards for a second as he orients himself. "Come on, let's go get this machine."

Bucky strides away down the footpath with Steve nervously in tow. His phone vibrates sharply in his pocket.  
Pulling it out reveals a text from Natasha: _Having fun? :)_  
Steve represses a sigh and taps back: _Please tell me tactical assault driving is a Soviet thing._

A police cruiser speeds past with beacons on but Bucky pays no attention. Steve tries to remember Natasha's instructions about going on the run: don't run. Pedestrians part around the two despite their civilian garb, wary of the purpose in Bucky's step. Civvies or not, as far as the programming in his head was concerned they were on a mission. 

"I can't believe we just did that." The Captain mutters to his friend as they wander towards the store. Clearly Steve isn't fond of his driving but it is the only way he knows how.  
The ghost of a grin twists the corner of Bucky's mouth and he laughs.  
Steve smiles at the noise. That makes the verbal beating that Stark is going to give him entirely worth it.


	2. Cheese Graters on Steroids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Within which the Captain makes a note to talk to the marketing team at SHIELD and Bucky Barnes discovers the terror of mandolin slicers.

The store greets them with a rush of cool air and a wave of noise: songs layered over shows, announcements over the PA system and the store's own music. Both scan the busy aisles for anything resembling homeware. Steve's keen gaze finds a blue and white banner proclaiming _'KITCHEN'_ and takes a dive because a coffee machine goes in a kitchen, he can't be too far off. He taps Bucky on the arm and the man jumps slightly.

"You alright Buck?" Steve asks.  
"Yeah." Bucky blinks his gaze back to focus "Just noisy."  
"It is, isn't it?" His friend agrees, eyes lingering a moment on the man's face before he leads off. Bucky follows just off his shoulder, flanking him as they move onward.

The pair wander through the aisles, perusing the many and varied items on the shelf. Somewhere along the way they find themselves striding down an aisle of toothbrushes, of all things, with shelves stocked from your garden variety toothbrush to electric ones that looked far more complex then the task they were designated for. Bucky hides a smirk as he spies the section dedicated to the Avengers, including the familiar red-white-blue of Captain America regalia.  
Steve's gaze slides over the section with all the ease of forced ignorance in hope of bliss, but Bucky sees his ears redden.

Instead, Steve halts in front of the electric display cabinet and peers, intrigued, at the items within.  
"Look at this one!" He plucks a deceptively sleek looking brush off the stand and presses the button. A blue LED illuminates the head from within and it buzzes alarmingly. "Seems like something Stark would design for himself. What do you think?"  
He turns to look at his friend and finds the man wide-eyed, lips tight and staring at the toothbrush like it's a gun. His chest is rising in short, sharp bursts that make Steve deposit the brush hastily back onto its perch.

"You alright Bucky?" He asks, stepping between the display and his friend.   
Bucky takes a moment but refocuses his panicked gaze on Steve. "I don't think it's a good idea." He says, dangerously soft. Something about it- perhaps the noise- brings the taste of blood to his mouth and the sensation of a biteguard crushed between his teeth.  
Steve puts aside his mild confusion about the answer and nods. "Me neither. Let's get that coffee machine."

They move towards the end of the aisle but Bucky stops and swipes something off a shelf.   
"This is coming with me." The man says with steely determination that dares any challenger.  
Steve glances down and is slightly mortified to see the gaudy colours of the Captain America toothbrush clutched in Bucky's gloved fist but doesn't protest.

Their entry into the kitchen department is noticed by a keen-eyed young clerk who springs to meet them.   
"Hello gentlemen, is there something I could help you with today?" They ask and Bucky is immediately suspicious of their over-saturated chirpiness.   
"Ah, looking for a coffee machine? Something relatively new- but not too complicated." Steve replies. "We're looking to upgrade."  
"Awesome, upgrading! Sure, follow me!" The clerk chirrups and flutters off. Steve follows and Bucky stares for a moment, almost sickened anyone could be that enthusiastic about a coffee machine, then tails the pair onwards.

The clerk is still nattering at an almost unintelligible rate. "While we're passing by take a look at our new mandolin slicers! Stainless steel, packs in on itself which I think is really neat, comes in all these neat colours, and you get five different fittings in one pack!" They warble, stopping to swipe said item off a shelf lit with all manner of promotional signage dealing directly with the slicer and holds it proudly out to Steve. 

He takes it with a glance at Bucky who shrugs, confused at the relevance of some cheese grater on steroids to coffee machines.   
"You've got all those neat fittings all packed into that one container, you never have to sharpen it and it's got grip pads on the side!" The clerk announces with such false enthusiasm Bucky can taste it in the back of his throat.   
Steve can see Bucky's gloved left hand working slightly out of the corner of his eye as if he's fighting the urge to take the ridiculous thing to the clerk's face, gaze turning icy enough to bring winter early, and hurries to diffuse the situation. 

"Uh, sorry, but we're just looking for a coffee machine." He says with that megawatt smile and hands the slicer back to the clerk.   
Disarmed by the polite refusal and that superhero grin, the clerk stalls for a moment but resumes their regular rate of speech. "Yeah, right this way! We've got some really neat machines that'll do whatever you want. It's like having a barista in your own house!"  
The youth darts off again and Steve takes a moment, fixing Bucky with a silently questioning look. You alright?  
He relaxes his jaw and nods, trying not to think of all the unlisted uses of a set of cascading, collapsible blades.

The clerk finally leads them to a false kitchenette mounted with more machines then Stark's garage. Most of them look like they belong in the millionaire's house: sleek, stainless steel with lights and smooth interfaces.   
Bucky gives the clerk a comparatively mild glare before they can open their mouths to launch another sales pitch.   
"Take a look around, see what grabs your fancy!" They say and hush themselves.  
"What's the basic model, push-button kind of gig?" Steve asks as he browses the selection.  
"How basic are you thinking?"  
"Push button, get coffee." Bucky states rather cooly.   
Steve shoots him a warning look gentled by the slight grin on his face but agrees. "That's pretty much it."  
"Do you want to grind the beans or get pouches?" The clerk asks, eyes darting around the inventory.  
"Pouches?" Steve replies with a hint of uncertainty. This was probably a trick question.

All effects of Bucky's glacial stare on the clerk disappear like mist. "Ok, have a look at these then! They're really simple to use, just pop in on of these neat little capsules, press the button for what kind of milk – frothy or just hot- and then hit this one and you've got your coffee! It's self cleaning too, watch this!" They prance over to a rather compact machine with a four button display and pecks the lower right button. The machine lets out a gush of steam and dribbles streams of hot water from its three spouts. Steve, who has been inspecting it, jerks back a step at the alarming plumes.   
"Neat, huh?" The clerk chirrups. "Means you won't have to work about pulling it apart and cleaning all the fiddly bits."

Steve glances over his shoulder at Bucky. "What do you think?"  
"It makes coffee?" He asks the clerk.  
"Yes?" They reply, looking a little confused.  
Buck shrugs. "That's about all it needs to do."  
"We'll take it." Steve gives the clerk another disarmingly kind smile and all Bucky's stand-offish behavior seems nullified.   
"Fantastic! Which colour would you like?" They beam.  
"Red." Bucky says, so fast it stuns both Steve and the clerk.

A short minute later finds the pair standing in the checkout queue. 

Steve has the boxed machine, a spectacular shade of red, tucked under one arm. Bucky stands beside him, the only break in his façade of patience the constant motion of his right hand. Steve tries not to look but it’s hard to ignore the blur of colours as Bucky flips the toothbrush from grip to grip like a knife. The packaging on the brush doesn't seem to hamper him in any way; he absently flicks it forward- inverted- forward- inverted and the motion is rather mesmerizing.

"Next!" Comes the call and Steve breaks his gaze away.  
"Hi!" He greets the cashier, presenting the boxed machine.   
Bucky gives the brush one last flip before laying it down, handle first, on top of the machine and darts Steve a smug grin.  
"Just that today gentlemen?" The cashier asks as he scans through the items.  
"Yes, just those." Steve hands over the appropriate cash.

"You know, it's risky carrying that amount of cash about." Bucky says as they make for the exit.  
"What, you think someone's going to try to mug me?" Steve laughs good naturedly.   
Bucky shakes his head with a small, resigned grin. 

The man was the kind of loyal trusting person that would probably apologise to any potential mugger for beating him, give them the sleeve of his shirt to stem the bleeding and then take them out to lunch to help them out because obviously they need the money for something, right?  
That heart of gold was probably the only reason Bucky had ever had a chance and was standing here in this godawful homeware shop, clutching this ridiculous toothbrush, and not lifeless in a dumpster with a .50cal through-and-though in the chest and two in the head for good measure.   
The Soldier glances sideways at the man beside him, trying to text a reply whilst juggling the box and not bumping into anyone, and the grin softens on his face.


	3. Machines of Mass Caffeination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Within which Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes are coffee snobs and for once in his life Tony Stark doesn't want attention.

The two step into the sunlit bustle of the sidewalk. 

Bucky sweeps a gaze about the crowds, sparing another thought towards getting some shades.  
"Shall I go get the car?" He asks, keys glinting from a gloved hand.  
"You can't be serious." Steve says.  
Bucky gives him a mildly confused look. "What, you'd prefer I steal another one? Fine, I can do that. Five minutes."  
Despite carrying a small Bed Bath and Beyond bag containing the capsules and his toothbrush, Bucky still manages to sound like he'd break into a car with that and that alone. Steve is inclined to believe he could.

"No need, gentlemen." A very amused voice says. 

Both men look up to see Romanov weaving through the crowded footpath like a snake through water.  
"Natasha? There are probably fifty of these stores in DC, how did you find us?" Steve asks, perplexed.  
Bucky looks indifferent but quietly envious of the way she moves with the crowd, not driving it apart as he did. It certainly makes covert movement difficult when people avoid you subconsciously like the plague.  
"Your phone, grandpa." She reminds Steve with a feline grin. "You might want to have a chat to Stark about that little device he's got buried in it. And there's only one store that car would have directed you to, the one that sells Stark-endorsed products."  
Steve pulls his sleek touchscreen from a pocket and looks at it as if it was radioactive. Bucky's grey eyes narrow dangerously and he looks as if he's considering demolishing it.  
"Relax, he only turns it on when asked nicely- or for pranks." Natasha says. Neither men look any more at ease though Bucky looks taken by the idea of pranks. "So, are we all upgraded?"  
"Yeah," Steve says somewhat absently, still regarding his phone warily. "Newest model or however these machines are ranked."

"Good, let's go." Romanov turns on her heel and melts back into the crowd, the two falling into step to follow. She leads them to the familiar sleek black Corvette and slips into the drivers side. Bucky gets in the back, holding a hand out for the coffee machine and putting it in the footwell between his feet. Steve shuts his door lightly and gets into the passenger seat, hoping for a better drive then last time.

"You might want to give Stark a call, Rogers." She says as she pulls smoothly away from the curb.  
"He can't find the car? But it's got a tracking beacon on it?" Steve states.  
"No, he found it," Natasha begins with a devious grin, "So did just about every paparazzi in the city, and the news helicopters, and the police."  
"What?" Steve looks aghast, glancing back at Bucky. A grin twists the Soldier's face and faint laughter lights in his eyes. Steve, however, is not as amused.

"Tony's furious about the attention, for once in his life. He's facing a government inquiry into how one of his most secure fleet cars managed to get hijacked and taken for a twenty minute joyride by persons unknown." Natasha explains, not trying particularly hard to keep the mirth from her voice.  
"Oh gosh, I'm going to have to apologise to him for this." Steve's shoulders drop momentarily but are drawn back up again when Natasha punches the Corvette forwards. The high-power car does so with more viciousness then the suburban, despite all the Soldier's skill, and almost flattens him in his seat.  
Natasha glances at his pale face and her Chessire grin widens. "Oh, I forgot to reply to tell you that yes, it is a Soviet thing." 

Steve discovers that Bucky drives worse then Natasha, who at least doesn't want to scratch her car. Bucky sits easily in the back whilst Steve braces himself against whatever he can in the front.  
 _This is why I ride a bike._ He thinks.  
Romanov seems to have only one limit and that's a physical barrier stopping her from moving forwards. Even those seem to be very temporary in nature. At least the Corvette is more responsive then the suburban and has slightly more durable armrests.  
Suddenly Steve's phone vibrates madly. He releases his grip on the steering column to retrieve it from his pocket- it's Stark.  
"Oh no." He almost whimpers, preparing himself for an ear bashing. In the back seat Bucky perks up and fastens his attention on the Captain, riding out the movement of the car as if he were standing still.

Steve braces himself mentally. "Hello?"  
"Rogers, do you know how many of those fleet cars I've sold to the government? My product reputation is in tatters now because you and your Soviet boyfriend hijacked my car!" Tony wails in Steve's ear. "You could have at least left the AI intact so it could tell me what you were doing!"  
"Tony, I'm sorry but I didn't exactly plan to dismantle your car." Steve tries to soothe the irate billionaire whilst maintaining a grip on the armrest.  
"You know what I didn't plan to do? Attend five consecutive meetings, two with the joint heads of Defence and three- _three, Rogers!_ \- separate media groups, including a police representative!"  
Steve moves his phone a little further from his ear but it comes thudding back into his face as Natasha takes a corner in fourth gear. "I'm sorry, Tony, I'll make a statement-"  
"Come _on_ , Cap! This isn't going to be solved by making statements, it's going to be solved by kissing asses and you know I hate kissing asses! You owe me for this, Rogers." Tony finishes, as close to threatening as he can manage.  
"Yes, alright, I owe you a solid for wrecking your car!" Steve apologises.  
The call waiting noise cuts over Tony's reply and JARVIS interrupts with indifferent coolness. "Sir, it's the head of the Daily Mail."  
"I've got to go Rogers, we're not done!" Tony warns, hanging up before Steve can reply.  
He sigs, pockets the phone and glances back at Bucky. "I wish you hadn't culled that AI."  
Bucky shrugs, too amused by Stark's irritation to really give a damn. "Tell Stark not to make it so chatty then."

The car decelerates suddenly, almost throwing Steve into the dash. It would appear they've arrived home, the Corvette's speed and Natasha's Soviet road skills culling the twenty minute drive into ribbons.  
Steve looks over at Natasha, who is still grinning as she kills the engine.  
"What?" She asks innocently.  
"Are you doing this on purpose?" He asks.  
"No, why would I?" She states dismissively and exits.  
Steve gives up and joins Bucky on the footpath. He's got the machine under his left arm and the plastic bag in the other but silently passes up Steve's offer to take something. Steve brings up the tail end of the trio, following them into the apartment. Romanov holds the door for them.  
"You know, you should really stop putting your keys under things." She says as Steve slips past her.  
"She's right." Bucky comments as they enter the kitchen.  
"Yeah, I know." Steve grabs a knife from a draw and slices open the tape on the box. They're both right but everyone knows he's not going to stop. 

"Alright, let's see how this goes." He lifts the machine out of the box and sets it gently on the bench. Stray bits of packing fall off only to be brushed aside as Bucky clears a space.  
"Oh, nice colour." Romanov comments as she put the kettle on the stovetop. It never ceases to make her smile to think of the two Supersoldiers waiting to hear the whistle of their 40's style kettle. To the both of them it was something so mundane it was beyond reassuring to hear. 

The boys successfully free the coffee maker from it's plastic confines and set about trying to get it working.  
Bucky finds an outlet on the wall to plug it in and goes to switch it on but Steve stops him.  
"Wait, aren't we supposed to plug in a hose or something for water?" He asks.  
"I'm not sure." Bucky checks the back of the machine but can only find the one chord. "Doesn't look like it."  
"Is there a manual in the box?" Steve drew the box to himself and dug around the packaging to find out for himself.  
"Do we really need a manual for this?" Bucky shoots him a look that clearly says: You bookworm.  
Steve doesn't mind at all. 

Natasha moves around them, making her usual brew, then takes up a perch at the table to watch. She withdraws her phone from her pocket, snapping off a picture of the scene and sending it to Clint: _Round One!_

"What do we need a manual for, we should be able to just plug it in and go."  
"Where does the water go in?"  
"Look for a seamline or something, try pressing a button."  
"Is it even turned on?"  
"Shit, no let me just-"

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_ The display pulses orange.

Both men jerk back from the machine as if it's an armed weapon.  
"Great. It talks too. What does that mean?" Bucky asks, thoroughly finished with chatty machinery today.  
Steve leafs through the manual. "It's telling you it doesn't have water."  
"We know that, how to we get water in it?"  
 _Beep! Beep! Beep!_ The machine urges.  
"Ah let's try this." Steve presses a plate in on the rear of the machine and grins at Bucky when it yields a container. "Ta-da!"  
"Alright, the manual was helpful." He says begrudgingly. He takes the container and moves to fill it in the sink.  
"Then this one's for the milk." Steve presses another panel which gives and produces another container helpfully marked thus. He steps around Bucky to get to the fridge, just as Bucky moves back to replace the water. 

The pair pause for a moment, spurred on by their triumph. Steve spares a quick but longing glance to the plunger on the shelf but presses on.  
Behind them Romanov sneaks a shot of the moment and flicks it Clint's way captioned: _Round Two!_

"Okay, now what?" Bucky asks.  
"Let's make coffee." Steve says with that typical Captain America determination.  
"I'm following your lead." Bucky splays his hands as if relinquishing all control over the matter.  
Suddenly something changes in Steve like he's flipped the switch from Steve Rogers to Captain America. "Alright, we've got water, we've got milk. We need to prep the machine."  
A smirk twists Bucky's mouth. "Yes, Captain."  
Behind them Natasha stifles a chuckle with another mouthful of coffee. 

Steve pauses for a moment, narrowing his eyes at Bucky, then launches onwards. "We need a cup under the spout."  
Bucky retrieves one from the cupboard. "Cup, check."  
"Press and hold the water button until it beeps." Steve instructs.  
Bucky obliges, mildly disconcerted by the chirpy machine as it gives a beep and abruptly expels a gout of steaming water.  
"Good, it's cleaned. Discard that, get a new cup." The Captain continues.  
"Set." Bucky replies, replacing the mug.  
"Put a capsule in the top."  
"Which one?" Bucky rifles through the box.  
Steve scans the page again. "It doesn't say- what about the pouch?"  
"They're…" Bucky inspects a few. "A whole heap of different types of coffee?"  
"Grab one that sounds familiar then." Steve encourages.  
"None of them sound familiar! They all sound like something Stark would drive!" Bucky says exasperatedly. "Uh Capriccio, alright, that's close to cappuccino."  
"Put it in the top, then we press twice for a half cup of water, once or twice depending on whether we want milk or foam, then press and hold to clean it again."  
"Are we making coffee or arming a nuclear device?" Bucky mutters as he complies.  
Steve looks slightly alarmed at his friend drawing the connection between the two.  
Natasha, sitting at the table, grins into her would-be QuikClot and offers no help.  
A new mug goes under the spout and the 'Capriccio' capsule in the top. The man punches in the sequence and waits. The machine gives a hydraulic hiss and the spout erupts again, making the pair balk slightly. Once done the machine warbles brightly. Bucky makes a note to check the manual about disabling the talking.

"Well." Steve states, looking cautiously at the mug on the drip tray. "That's one."  
"It's yours- I need a straight shot after all this." Bucky says. He hands the mug to Steve, who takes it with a soft smile and stands by him as he digs into the capsules again.  
With all the precision of military training, Bucky executes another coffee order and makes himself a cup of aromatic, pitch black coffee.  
They join Natasha at the table, Steve leaning against the doorframe. Both men sip cautiously at their beverages. After a brief moment of silence Bucky downs the remainder of his coffee like a shot of rum and puts the mug down rather forcefully.

"It's shit." He declares.  
Beside him Steve breaks into a grin- he'd been politely sipping his and trying not to complain after all the trouble they went through to get it.  
Natasha chuckles- she'd never liked any of that instant stuff anyway- and asks "Did you at least have fun trying it?"  
"Well if you call becoming the seven o'clock news headline fun, yes." Steve says with faint exasperation, reminding himself to pay back Stark for that car and buy him a few rounds for the media shemozzle.  
"Isn't it? You don't enjoy a good police chase every once in a while?" She asks with false innocence. Steve is too used to her sharp humor to be alarmed and laughs agreeably "Oh, yeah, of course! Who doesn't?"  
He glances at the man sitting beside him and Bucky grins. For a brief moment there's a flash of the old Bucky shining through in the twist of his mouth, laughing over bad coffee and drama. 

Suddenly the coffee doesn't taste all that bad.


End file.
